


And The Devil Makes Three

by cyanideinsomnia



Series: Post-Banishment Lucio [4]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Altered Mental States, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Lucio (The Arcana), Crying During Sex, Emotional Baggage, Hand Jobs, Julian Devorak's Route, Kissing, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Sex, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Partial Mind Control, Pirate Julian Devorak, Porn with Feelings, Post-Banishment Lucio, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink, Premature Ejaculation, Rimming, Scars, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Service Top Julian Devorak, Threesome - M/M/M, Topping from the Bottom, Touch-Starved, its a good cry we swear, post-epilogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24678598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanideinsomnia/pseuds/cyanideinsomnia
Summary: We Are Not Friends side story (around chapter 14-15). Julian tries to make Lucio feel better about his new body, and the Devil is questionably helpful.
Relationships: Julian Devorak/Lucio (The Arcana), The Devil/Lucio (The Arcana)
Series: Post-Banishment Lucio [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680019
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	And The Devil Makes Three

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [We Are Not Friends](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23358118) by [cyanideinsomnia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanideinsomnia/pseuds/cyanideinsomnia). 



> they're not allowed to fuck on the lazaret in the main story 
> 
> so here's what if they did

"Don't worry, I think he's asleep."

“It's not that, I'm just-- when’s the last time you, er..”

Long, gentle fingers were winding slowly down his body, tracing along the scars just above the waistband of his borrowed pants, still loose around the hips, so easy to access - and yet the other man was hesitating, as though he expected to hurt him.

Lucio reluctantly paused his attempts to recapture Julian’s lips with a breathless huff. “When’s the last time I was Count? Not counting that last year.”

Somehow, he seemed surprised by this. 

“You didn’t even have time for a quick handy in the bushes??”

“I had more _important_ issues to worry about, thank you.”

He wasn’t about to tell him that was one of the lures the Magician used, back in those desperate early days, when he was just getting used to having a physical body again and could be lured by anything if it meant temporary pleasure. It was a wonder he made it out of the early days.

The hands moved, gently guiding him onto his back on the rocky ground, Julian hovering over him. His face was bright red, but there was a note of concern in his eyes. “Fooling around is fine and all, but now I believe I have no choice but to smother you in enough affection and adoration to make up for lost time, if you’ll allow it.”

“God, yes, _please._ ” Part of him wanted to ask how much time he’d lost. Another part told him he didn’t want to know. “Smother me, Jules. Make me beg for mercy.”

Julian leaned further over him, running his fingers along one of his horns, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip. It was an odd, not entirely unwelcome sensation. “One condition: you have to let me adore _all_ of you. Even the parts you don’t like.”

“There’s always a damn catch,” He sighed.

He leaned further down to press a gentle, almost reverent kiss to the edges of ugly purple spiderwebs along his collarbones, sending a shudder through him. “That includes these, too.”

“.. that means there’s more of me I don’t like than what I do like.” 

Lucio felt himself sinking lower against the ground, the warmth of arousal tempered with that horrible self-conscious feeling, focusing on the hairs on Jules’ chest instead of the scars across his own, onyx hooves barely hidden by gangly legs. “What’s left to like, Jules?”

“Your eyes?” Pressing a kiss to an eyelid.

“If you’re into the Plague look.”

Gentle doctor hands, running through his mane, no longer as soft and clean as it was at the beginning of this journey, though not yet as bad as it was in the realms. 

“Your hair? I’ve always admired your golden locks.”

His own right hand grabbed for the chunks of silver near his temples, resisting the temptation to rip them out. “Are you going to _admire_ it when it all looks like this? When it all falls out? And the only things left are…. are _those_??”

Gesturing at the horns. 

“I don’t know if it’s gonna be worse if they’re not there. At least if they’re there, there’s a good reason for me to look like a freak.”

“They make wigs, you know.”

“People will know. I’ll know.”

Julian frowned, but seemed to know to let the issue lie, instead focusing on capturing his lips in another deep, passionate kiss, not drawing away until they were both struggling to catch their breaths. “Don’t tell me you’ve got a problem with your lips. I may very well fight you on that one.”

“What.. do you like about them?” He murmured, while making it impossible for him to speak, pressing close and stealing his own kisses, drowning out his doubts with soft to soft, warm to warm. 

The other man leaned back just enough to draw a finger across his bottom lip with that same reverence, letting the calloused pad of it catch on each ridge and dip. He leaned into the touch with a low moan, lips parted for that finger - or any finger - to press inside his mouth if it chose to, regardless of the danger his new teeth would provide.

“Soft, warm.. very kissable. Even when they’re covered in bird guts.” Julian chuckled, letting his finger wind around both lips, stroking them. “More addictive than any substance I’ve found so far. They keep drawing me in. I could easily lose my mind from the touch of these lips, and I would thank you for it.”

He was starting to pant against his hand, his skin already burning, mouth left half-open, not trying very hard to catch his finger in its grip, almost hypnotized by the motion of it.

“B-better or worse than when I was--”

At once the finger drew away, replaced by another brush of lips, only lingering long enough to silence him. “That’s not important right now and you know it. I have them now. I can kiss them now. I can _appreciate_ them now.”

Julian playfully nipped at his bottom lip, and he felt his thighs _drop_ , a deeper shudder running up his spine.

“Fuck, I wasn’t ready.”

“I know you like it rough, but I don’t think that’s best for you right now,” His doctor sighed against his lips, before moving down to press another one of those reverent kisses to his throat, feeling his own pulse quickening beneath him. “We just got you to trust me to _touch_ you, let alone bruise you.”

"I don't care what you do as long as you keep _appreciating_ me." He groaned, leaning his head back to give him more of his throat to 'appreciate', at least as far back as his horns would allow.

Warm lips and a warmer tongue diligently trailed along his skin, slowly tracing the edges of his scars, dancing across where one bled into another, thick to thin, an odd mix of numbness and sensitivity prickling in their wake. He was steadily moving lower, lathing his tongue along his chest, his stomach, further down until his lips brushed against the last strip of skin before his pants got in the way.

The hands slowly moved down to his hips, gently tugging his pants down, pausing a moment as he couldn't help but whimper at the change of temperature, cool air against his aching cock, left untouched for too many years to count. He wasn't sure if it could handle being touched. It felt too tight, too sensitive, too close to the brink just from a little kissing higher up.

Rather than touch it immediately, Julian was focused on working the pants the rest of the way off his misshapen animal legs, probably purposely ignoring how they tensed beneath his touch, remaining dead still and not making it any easier to expose them. In the daylight he could better see where his scars poked through the fur, making them look even worse.

"You don't need to appreciate those," Lucio murmured, eyes focused on his tormentor instead of the current torment. "They'll be fine without it."

"Ah-ah-ah, remember, I said _all_ of you." 

He pressed a kiss to his human inner thigh, and then where flesh faded into fur, his hands cradling that leg so much more gently than it deserved as he moved further down, massaging it while peppering each curve and divot with a flurry of kisses. The other was given the same dizzyingly chivalrous treatment, until he came down to both sets of lightly trembling hooves, making sure he held his gaze as he gave them each a kiss of their own.

"Y-you cut that out before you stir up some kind of kink in me," He breathed, once again mesmerized. God if he was standing or sitting on a throne while Julian did this, he would be dead, instantly.

He wondered how much of that was from the Devil, considering the bastard's insistence on being treated like royalty. He couldn't fault him if it was.

Julian only grinned before working his way back up, stroking and kissing until his head was between splayed, naked, shaking thighs, his breath hot against sensitive flesh. Just the _sight_ of him there was bad enough, that damned grin inches away from his cock, cheek lightly resting against his thigh, not making a move yet. God, he was beautiful. 

God, he wanted it.

"Jules, _please_."

At the first taste of warmth and pressure, he came, body juddering against him as intense pleasure he wasn't prepared for ripped through him, forcing life back into parts of him he'd forgotten existed, both too much and not nearly enough. It was almost painful, driving another pathetic whimper from his throat as he chased after it, tried to hold onto it, it wasn't _enough_.

Shame and frustration gripped him in its wake, face burning, thighs drawing in as if to cover the offending party, stopped by Julian's broad shoulders still holding them apart. "I'm sorry. You just started and I ruined it."

"What's this past tense nonsense? You really think I'm just going to leave you there??" He pressed a kiss to his softening cock. "There'll be plenty more to ruin by the time I'm done with you."

"Please. I want all of it. I _need_ it." His thighs tightened their grip for a much different reason, keeping him in place between them. "I want to run you _ragged_."

He felt his prisoner shiver in his grip, breath quickening against his thighs. His hands were moving to brace against his ass, fingers digging into the meat of it as he leaned forward to run his tongue along the length of him, stem to stern, achingly slow. Taking his time, exploring him without the immediate risk of release. Almost toying with him.

He could feel it hardening again under that tortuous tongue, bucking his hips up against him with a soft groan, head falling back against the ground again. Julian just as slowly pulled his cock into his mouth, working it in bit by bit until he could feel his lips against his balls, for the moment holding it there and winding his tongue around it.

The darkness behind eyes he couldn't remember closing was tinted red, a sudden warmth and weight against his back, the softness of fur replacing the rocky ground beneath him. Hands, larger, rougher, began to trail along his mostly naked body, just as slow and leisurely as Julian's before them. He was compelled to lean into the touch, his vice grip on his doctor's shoulders loosening to let them stroke along the inside of his thighs, legs and hips slowly drawing upward as the other man began to suck.

"W-wait.." Lucio breathed, though he wasn't sure to whom, slowly realizing what was going on, knowing he should try to stop it but it felt _so good_. "I.."

**_Relax._ **

All at once his body relaxed, legs dropping back down with a loud thump he barely felt, spread wide open for either of them to take advantage of. The warmth against his cock faltered, moving as if to release him - likely to ask what the hell was going on - and he blindly grabbed for his head with his left hand as the right was too relaxed to move, aiming to push Julian back down where he belonged.

“Don't stop, Jules, _fuck_ ,” He heard himself gasp, gasping louder as the motion of his head obediently resumed, back and forth, push and pull, almost the same rhythm as breathing, unconsciously rocking his hips in time with it.

He wasn't sure how much longer he would last this time.

His claws dug harder into his scalp, arching up into him as he felt the Devil's hands against his ass, joining Julian's in holding his thighs apart, a thick finger effortlessly pressing inside him, his body too relaxed to consider rejecting it – in fact he craved it, wanted more, as much as he was willing to give. The sensation of more fingers slid into him, curling and stroking against his inner walls, stretching and pushing as Julian pushed and pulled at the front, his pace picking up.

More hands, too many hands, continued stroking and caressing his body, digging into places Julian hadn't been able to reach, the brush of a tongue and sharp teeth against his neck, against his mouth, jaw automatically dropping open for easier access by the tongue and rough fingers, a swarm of sensation against his tongue and inside his mouth.

It didn't stop when another shudder of release tore through him, threatened to drag him down into oblivion, unsure of what sound he just made but feeling it come out of him with his whole chest, like his soul was escaping. He distantly felt the real mouth shift against him, letting go of him and drawing back, a flash of concerned and perhaps a bit mesmerized grey eyes between his own legs, for the moment watching what must have been an odd sort of display.

“Are you alright?”

“Mmmnf--” He reluctantly turned his head away, even though he knew the sensation would follow. “I want you to fuck me. Fuck me and t-tell me-- tell me more about what you like. About me. Please.”

Gentle doctor fingers hesitantly traced around where he wouldn't know the Devil was already touching him, biting down on another whimper to keep from chasing him away. “I thought you were more of a-- you want me to--?”

“I want _all_ of it, Jules. Don't make me hold you down and ride you myself.”

He didn't want to tell him he didn't know if he could move, if he had the strength to make good on that threat. He didn't want him to stop this and start fussing about him.

As Julian knelt between his legs again, he felt the Devil's hands shift, gripping his legs and pulling them higher up, keeping them in place as the warmth and wetness of a very real tongue probed inside him, tracing the rim and deeper in with that same aching reverence. He wouldn't know he was already prepared, and he couldn't possibly stop him, it felt so good. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had dared to do this for him, even as the Count.

Another set of hands was stroking at his cock and inner thighs, slowly working him back up, unconsciously jolting up against them as it was so sensitive it nearly hurt. He wondered if the Devil had intended to fuck him instead, but hadn't the means. He leaned back into the feeling of his tongue pressing inside his mouth again, an odd sort of animal kiss, right arm twitching to rise up and hold him there even though he was inside his mind.

If their “partnership” had been more like this the whole time, he wouldn't have _dreamed_ of trying to put him back in the realms. He wondered if that was the intention behind this.

Lucio felt Julian's tongue move away, opening his eyes in time to see him fumbling with his own trousers, his face the color of what remained of his own shirt, staring down at his mostly naked body with all the trepidation and excitement of a newlywed on their honeymoon. It was very clear he couldn't believe what was happening, all wide-eyed and sweaty.

“You're so damn cute when you’re nervous.” He chuckled, watching Julian's face turn even deeper red.

“Just so you know, I _have_ been on top before.”

“With Arsenic? I doubt it.”

He spluttered, focusing more intently on freeing himself from his pants. “I just. I wasn't prepared for _you_ to take the receiving role, that's all. Least of all from me. Are you sure you--?”

Without a second thought he pried his own mouth from the Devil's grip long enough to press a kiss to Julian's, hard and desperate, quickly and pointedly shutting him up. The sudden hard pressure against his thigh indicated that was the final push needed to help free his cock from its confinement.

“The next time I hear your voice, it better be singing my praises.” A breathless growl against his lips, an accompanying shudder and a kiss in turn, like a wolf submissively licking the muzzle of a superior.

Julian managed a crooked grin. “I love it when you boss me around. Does that count?”

“Mm, it’ll do.”

He allowed himself to fall back into the Devil’s grasp, eyes closed, legs shaking, letting his doctor focus on the task at hand. He was hard again, his cock likely the same color as Julian’s face as the larger hands resumed stroking him, balancing on the knife’s edge between pleasure and pain. 

Slightly smaller hands still larger than his own gripped his hips, holding him in place as he felt another, more solid invasion of warmth, slowly easing its way inside him until he could feel Julian’s body pressed against his own, slightly moving him with his own labored breaths, not yet moving - presumably to give him a chance to adjust.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation, but it had still been years since he’d felt it, a distant warm memory overridden by the pleasure swarming through him now. He experimentally clenched down on the cock inside him, eliciting a soft whimper from its owner, fingers tightening their grip on his hips.

“F-fuck me, Jules. Don’t hold back.”

He arched his hips up against him, thighs curling around his waist, heels of his animal feet propped up against his legs, making sure none of his lower half touched the ground, completely at his mercy. One of the hands moved from his hip to his lower back, better balancing him as he began to thrust - slow but _deep_ , as if unsure how to start but unable to stop.

“I-- I like how you feel, around me,” Julian murmured against his neck, as if remembering the other half of his task, and he shuddered. “I like the sounds you make when I thrust into you. I like that you trust me enough to let me do this. That you want me to do this. I’m honored, I truly am.”

“It’s not an _award_ ,” Lucio laughed, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it.

“N-no, no-- you understand how special this is, don’t you? You’re special. I love you. I love making you feel good, in every capacity. You deserve it. You deserve the world.”

The Devil seemed to be withdrawing at that, for the moment acting as a warm furry bed for him to be fucked on more than an active participant, and he wasn’t entirely sure why until he felt the pinpricks of tears in his eyes, a sudden pang of _feeling_ in his chest. 

Some mix of pride and grief, knowing he once owned the world and would never have it back, and yet now, when he was broken and useless, _now_ he deserved it.

“Laying it on a bit thick, there,” He murmured, trying to keep that pain out of his voice. “M-maybe go back to complimenting my body instead.”

The thrusts faltered, and he desperately hoped he didn’t see the tears, even if he was sure they were trapped behind his eyelids. “You’ve doubtlessly heard almost everything there is to say about your body. What if I want to compliment _you_?” 

“I don’t-- I’m not ready for that. Not now.”

He would definitely start crying outright if he did.

“Alright, fair enough - but you’re not getting out of it. Some time when you least expect it, I _will_ compliment your character and you just have to deal with that.” 

A press of lips against his own as a balm, temporary as it may have been, allowing him to focus on the taste of him and the feel of his cock instead of the ache in his chest, his hands coming up to pull his body even closer, digging his claws into his shirt.

His voice was in his ear, deep and almost hypnotic, panting as he waxed poetic about the curve of his ass and the strength of his thighs, how his eyes caught the moon and the stars and he supposed the blood of his enemies - this garnered a breathless chuckle, which was given its own poetry - and his hair shone bright like fresh-spun gold and silver, riches beyond compare. An entire stanza was dedicated to his cock, though the real poetry was in the motion of his hand along the shaft, gentle yet strong, stroking him in just the right way that the knife's edge tipped back to pleasure.

Even his scars came under that beautiful, sickening assault - smooth like velvet, spun gossamer, a sign he had survived his worst days, a warning to lesser dangers that he could handle anything. He had fought the Arcana and won. He was here. He was alive. He was beautiful.

Not the same kind of beautiful he was before. Something better. Something new.

Despite his best efforts he was crying anyway when the last, most explosive climax seared through him, sobbing and holding tight to Julian to keep him from pulling back, riding him until he doubled over him in the grip of his own release, filling him with a hot jet of cum that seemed about as pent up as his own. 

He could feel the rocky ground again, indicating the Devil had stepped back completely, having gotten his fill of the show. His vision was no longer tinted red, only blurred with tears as he opened his eyes, catching sight of his doctor’s worried expression before his face was assaulted with another flurry of kisses, as if he was trying to clear away his feelings with his lips.

“Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Lucio smiled, leaning up to press his own kiss to his lips. “You did good, Jules. We should do this again sometime, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“... maybe not on the Lazaret.” He made a face. “With the Devil. How much did he--”

“Don’t worry, he was very helpful.”

“Pardon? He what?”

“It’s fine.”

“I was in a threesome with the Devil the whole time??”

“ _It’s_ _fine_.”


End file.
